The clacks from his boots resonated through the deserted, ruined vicinity as he walked through what were once streets.
Each step echoed a little too loud, like a reminder of the devastation that had befallen his beloved village even though the village was still in the sa miserable state.
Dr. Hamm paused occasionally, squinting through the landmarks that no longer existed, trying to recall from his mory what once existed at every spot.
The old bakery where Mrs. Chen used to wave at him every morning was now nothing more than a pile of crumbled walls and shattered glass.
The fountain where children played—where his own Mara visited the most with him and her mother—was cracked down the middle, its cheerful vicinity brimming with people now replaced by an eerie silence.
"What is all this?" he muttered under his breath, adjusting the heavy leather bag that had been uncomfortably positioned on his shoulder for the past hour.
The bag contained his latest research findings on pre-summoning civilizations, discoveries that had excited him beyond asure just days ago.
Unfortunately now, they seed as relevant as yesterday's newspaper in a world that had apparently turned upside down.
Dr. Hamm's residence was a bungalow at the edge of the academic quarter, but now, he could barely imagine what to expect when he got to it. The state of all these buildings alone... wasn't... really encouraging.
The neat little garden where he'd spent countless evenings maintaining and watering his blooming roses was trampled flat, and the short fence demarcating his house from the street lay scattered.
He looked lost as he walked, glancing at the somber faces of villagers everywhere he turned. Their expressions ranged from frustration to barely contained grief.
Several lants could be heard in the nooks and crannies everywhere, and without asking a single question, Dr. Hamm already eavesdropped on the entire incident.
"...then suddenly, a portal opened from the sky and countless untad familiars rushed down..."
"...buildings just disappeared, like they were never there..."
"...the Red Eastern guild saved us, but at what cost..."
"...how about Ryder, he was also there the whole ti to protect us all..."
"...poor Mrs. Elmira didn't make it out in ti..."
The professor's analytical mind had pieced together the information, creating a complete picture of disaster that made his stomach churn.
He had travelled away about five days ago for research like he always did during long holidays, and now that he was back, he couldn't recognize the village he left behind.
"Five days," he whispered to himself, shaking his head in disbelief. "I was gone for five bloody days, and this place turns into a war zone."
His travelling bag straps were still hung around his shoulder, remaining uncomfortable despite the fact that he had adjusted them as he dragged his feet on the ground, only able to mumble to himself.
"What is going on!"
A small part of him wondered if he was having so sort of nightmare brought on by too much stress from his journey and sleeping on rocky ground.
However, the undoubted sll of smoke and the genuine grief etched on every face he passed convinced him otherwise. ʀᴇᴀᴅ ʟᴀᴛᴇsᴛ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs ᴀᴛ novel✶fire
After a long walk through the village despite his tiredness, he reached his ho. Or rather, he reached what used to be his ho. The sight that greeted him was like a punch to the gut, stealing his breath and making his knees wobble in weakness.
Looking at the ground while standing in the area that was sheltered by blocks and roofs, his gaze moved to the ground where several books were lying scattered all over.
His precious collection—first editions of historical texts, personal research on summoning theory, all the work and projects that mattered to him—lay exposed, their pages fluttering in the wind.
This exact building was a place he and his daughter—Mara—had called ho all their life.
Every corner held mories, and he just couldn't stop the flashbacks flooding into his head.
The kitchen where Mara had attempted to cook breakfast for his birthday when she was twelve and nearly burned the house down in the process.
The living room where they'd argued about her grades while secretly both knowing she was smarter than any child of her age.
The front porch where she'd sit reading adventure novels while he did his howork projects and tried not to notice how much she'd grown up.
Then the place they liked the most, his mini library, where several shelves once stood but now, it was no more.
Mostly black soot, scraps and rubble dominated the ground now.
As luck would have it, he noticed a small stool beside a pile of rubble that was sohow intact and arranged it properly to sit on. One he had bought for Mara in her childhood days.
Sitting on it, his knees nearly touching his chin due to its child-sized build.
"Hey dad." A soft feminine voice Dr. Hamm would recognize imdiately even after being woken from sleep called out.
He had barely noticed Mara, who was resting her back against one of the half-crumbled walls of the apartnt.
Her usually neat clothing was dusty and wrinkled, and there was sothing different in her posture—more confident, more resolved. Definitely, she had sothing she had to tell him.
He already knew this with a single glance.
"I heard about the attack," he said, going straight to the point without preamble. "Are you alright?"
"I'm fine, Father," Mara assured him, stepping away from the wall towards her father.
"I...." Mara was about to spill out the fact that she was amongst the crew who resolved the breach, but then quickly decided against it.
Saying that would have to wait, for now or maybe forever. Telling her father the truth would only lead to questions she wasn't prepared to answer.
"I was taken into safe haven created by the affinity of one of the Red Eastern guild mbers before things could get ugly." She lied through her teeth. It was wrong, but she had to say it.
Dr. Hamm studied her face, raising his head lazily to stare at her with the penetrating gaze that had made countless students gulp nervously over his years of teaching.
Despite his tiredness from the long journey, his sharp eyes missed nothing—not the small cuts on her hands that suggested she'd been handling debris, not the way she favored her left leg slightly as if hiding so injury.
"You look... different," he observed, his professor instincts kicking in despite his exhaustion.
"Did you fall from so height... or perhaps get into a fight?" The questions ca out more casually than he felt, but he was speaking this way on purpose.
"Maybe so," she admitted, turning to face him with firm resolve and honesty that surprised them both. The old Mara would have been stuttering by now, but she wasn't.
"Father, I need to tell you sothing."
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